


Of Life and Death

by Babenclaw



Series: [E]verything That Lives [1]
Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Ending E (NieR: Automata), Slow Burn, ignores some canon postgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21864091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Babenclaw/pseuds/Babenclaw
Summary: 2B looked down at the still figure still held protectively against her chest, trying to weigh her options. Could she risk the consequences?Could she risk not trying?(A Post-E world where everything isn't okay, and two lost androids desperately cling to any sense of belonging in a world out to tear them apart. Side: 2B)
Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata)
Series: [E]verything That Lives [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575121
Comments: 17
Kudos: 55





	1. System Reset

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thalassa_Promise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thalassa_Promise/gifts).



Her auditory processors were the first function to finish their reboot. It was deafening, the sudden rush of sound that threatened to overwhelm her processors, cocooning her in a rush of input. The sound of a small engine whirring. Further away, trees rustle in afternoon wind. Birds calling to their partners. The rustling of grass and pebbles crunched beneath heavy hoofs. 

A normal day on earth.

A day she shouldn’t be experiencing.

Her processors whir as they try to catch up, try to make sense of the sudden crushing feeling on her chest, the ache that feels as though it runs through her entirety. Memories crowding her memory region, clamoring for attention. The Bunker. The explosion. The desperate flight down, the Commander’s face seared into her eyes. 9S begging for an explanation as she sent him away, overwhelmed by the need to protect him. Crashing down, infected and exhausted. Alone. The ruins. The commercial facility.

A2.

A sword, white and glinting in the light, piercing through her chest, her black box. 

Pain.

Justice for everything that she had put others through, for every time she had put that same sword through another chest.

9S.

_ Oh… Nines… _

Slowly, joints creaking and grinding, she sat up, The wind dragged its winding fingers through her hair, rustling silvery-white stands.

From nearby, a familiar voice spoke a familiar greeting. “Good morning, unit 2B.”

2B cleared her throat, trying to clear her vocal processors enough to speak. She felt heavy, weighed down with the debris and refuse of 72 days. “Good… morning… 042.”

Her voice sounded mechanical, like it did while she was under the control of the virus, heavy and rusted from disuse. Her hands slowly rose, tracing places in her uniform where she remembered holes being made, places where the fabric should be snagged and ripped from machines and tree branches trying to hold her down, eventually finding the place on her chest. She could feel her black box humming, the telltale sound of an android’s consciousness. What she couldn't find, no matter how hard she searched, is the hole that should be there. In all the places where she expects damage, jagged skin or ripped wires, she only finds untorn fabric.

It doesn’t make any sense.

She’s not supposed to be  _ alive. _

“How… Am I…?”

Pod 042 hovered lower, stopping at eye level. “After completion of the YoRHa project, we tactical support units attempted to salvage the memory and personality data of units 2B, 9S, and A2.” Its engines whirr softly. Her eyes remain closed, trying to process, trying to understand. “As irrational humans would have called it, we have performed a ‘miracle.’”

“A ‘miracle,’ huh?”

Behind her visor, she opened her eyes. The sunlight pierced through her for a moment before her visor adjusted the input for her, bringing the world around her into focus. 

Something is tight in her throat.

“Where…” 2B began before coughing. Any energy she had gathered during her time being powered off feels nearly depleted. She almost doubled over from the effort it takes to force her vocal processors to work. “9S…. Where…”

Pod 042 bobbed in front of her again. “Proposal: Unit 2B should not exert extra energy. Time is still needed to repair functionality across all regions.”

2B shook her head. Repairs would come in time. There are some things more important than performance. “9S…”

Pod 042 turned to the side, indicating a still form that 2B hadn’t noticed prior. She reached slowly across the distance between them. “Unit 9S is here.”

_ Why are my hands shaking? _ 2B wondered. But it’s not only her hands. Her whole body is shaking. She shouldn’t be putting such wear on a newly repaired body, she knows. 9S used to complain about it, her insistence on moving around immediately after he’d completed maintenance, when newly soldered connections were still cooling and fresh additions still needed time to settle.

She needed to reach him. Needed to know he was there.

“Nines…” she breathed, her vocal processors consuming the sound in a soft puff of air.

“Proposal: extra care should be taken with your body as functionality is restored,” Pod 042 repeated. 2B paid it no mind.

A moment longer before she managed to graze her fingertips across an arm. It’s not much, barely enough to be considered contact, but she gripped it with what little strength she has left and uses it as an anchor, dragging herself across the concrete to reach him.

“9S… Nines… Wake up.”

Pod 042 floated into her line of sight, this time accompanied by a darker pod 2B recognizes as 9S’s support pod, 153.

Pod 042 broke the quiet. “Unit 9S is not responding.”

2B gripped his arm tighter, as though he would wake with just a bit of jostling. “Why?”

Pod 153 was the one to answer, something 2B knew should surprise her. Pods normally only respond to queries posed by their assigned units. Did that mean....?

“Analysis: personality data of unit 9S has been… lost. Backup system nonfunctional. Unit 9S has entered standby mode.”

2B bit back a lump of panic was practiced ease. “Lost?”

“Affirmative,” said Pod 042. “There is a very high chance that the recovery process was unable to adequately repair all units. There is little than can be done to rectify this issue.”

2B shook her head before her pod could even finish speaking, ignoring the visual tearing it caused. Slowly, her joints screaming with the sound of metal being forced to move, she pushed herself to kneeling, then shakily to standing. Her servos protested, and she swayed heavily on her feet, but she remained upright nonetheless. 

“No,” she said. “I refuse to let it end like this.” Not after everything. Not again.

Pod 042 floated in front of her vision, moving between her and 9S. 2B tried to ignore the sudden urge to push it out of her way. “As previously stated, there is very little that can be done to improve unit 9S’s condition. Proposal: unit 2B should go to the Resistance Camp and establish chain of command.”

2B did push past her pod now, her legs shaking as she made her way to 9S’s side. Gently, like he might shatter in her arms at any moment, she lifted him into her arms and cradled him against her chest. “Pod, mark on my map the spot where you discovered 9S before bringing him here.”

Pod whirred into her line of sight again. “Suggested action not advised,” it said, and 2B debated for a moment whether kicking it would make it more cooperative before dismissing the whim. The pod was only doing what it was programmed to do. 

They weren’t so different in that regard.

But in the end, her pod had brought her back. Given her the chance to set things right, to atone for the blood staining the joints between her fingers. She couldn’t waste the opportunity, not when she could feel 9S’s weight in her arms, the hum of a black box powered down but still functional. 

Pod continued. “Unit 9S was recovered from a hazardous location. All parts of unit 9S were recovered or obtained prior to initializing unit 2B’s boot sequence.”

2B started walking in the direction of the crater in the center of the ruins, her heels echoing on the concrete as she tried not to jostle 9S more than she absolutely had to. “Then find me an alternative solution. Highest probability of success.”

Pod 042 whirred as it ran the requested calculations. Behind it, Pod 153 followed along, a shadowed reminder.

“Analyzing current situation,” Pod 042 said. 2B continued walking while she waited for a response. Regardless of its answer, she knew she needed to get down from the top of this building, so that would be her first step. After a few moments of silence, her pod continued.

“Analysis: it is possible unit 9S could be recovered by forcing a restart to the boot sequence. This would require a status reset to his last stable state.”

2B paused halfway down the stairs, mulling over the response she was offered, before turning to look at the pod again. 

"What are the possible outcomes of that decision?"

The wind had died down within the abandoned building she was descending. It was eerily quiet.

“Possible outcomes include minor memory loss, unstable mental behaviors, and failure,” Pod 042 responded. 2B looked down at the still figure still held protectively against her chest, trying to weigh her options. Could she risk the consequences?

Could she risk not trying?

Her mind made up, 2B exhaled suddenly before completing her descent down the stairs, coming to a stop two floors below the place where they’d once fought Engels. Taking care not to jostle him, 2B laid 9S down on a relatively intact slab of stone before kneeling next to him, uncaring of the rough gravel as it ground into her knees. “Understood,” she said. “Pod, attempt to force a restart.”

Before Pod 042 could respond, Pod 153 swooped down between her and 9S. “Negative,” it said. “As the tactical support pod assigned to unit 9S, I will perform the requested task.” If 2B didn’t know any better, she would almost describe the pod as… offended?

Still, it didn’t particularly matter to her which pod performed the restart. She brushed the hair away from 9S’s neck, pressing her gloved fingers into a spot at the back of his neck. With a quiet clicking sound, the port opened, exposing his manual access port. 2B took the cord extending from Pod 153’s chassis and plugged it in. Anxiety twisted in her stomach. 

_ What if this doesn’t work? _

_ … _

_ What if it does? _


	2. Good Morning, Good Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9S wakes up.
> 
> All is not well.

Combat units were designed to be graceful in motion, fluid in combat, and always ready to take on the next threat. 2B, despite only wearing the skin of a combat unit, was programmed in a similar way. Designed for lethality, meant for fighting and killing.

Sitting here, watching 9S lay still as death, was the hardest thing she had ever done.

Her internal clock ticked away every second that passed while she waited for any sign of his awakening, any proof that Pod 153’s efforts weren’t in vain, that 9S was still somewhere inside the android shell baring his face.

The first time his fingers twitched, 2B dug her nails into her palms so hard that she thought she had ripped holes in her leather gloves. 

Pod 153 bobbed in the air, not able to go far due to the cable connecting it to 9S’s access port. “System restore in progress.”

There was a part of 2B that needed to reach out to touch him, needed to feel his chest rising and falling beneath her hands, needed the proof that he was real and alive and laying on the dirty concrete before her, his white hair glinting in the light and splayed around his head like a halo.

Slowly, cautiously, she reached out to hover her hand over his chest, over the spot where his black box rested. She imagined the skin beneath his heavy coat, unblemished and unscarred despite all the times she’d-

Her hand retracted as though she’d been burned.

_ Not that he’d want you to touch him, _ the larger part of her spoke.  _ Not if he knew who you really are. _

2B refrained, settling her hands in her lap. Her eyes never left his face. 

She was so focused on 9S, on the miniscule twitches of his lips, his hands, that Pod 042’s voice nearly made her jump.

“Requesting regular status updates on unit 9S’s reboot progress.”

“Request accepted.”

2B fidgeted, a habit she had chided 9S for… before...

Surely he would wake up soon. 

He would wake up, blinking behind his blindfold as his systems whirred back to life, before sitting up and apologizing for sleeping so late.

_ “Sorry 2B,” _ he would say, lips quirked into the now-familiar smile he offered her when it was just the two of them, when they weren’t YoRHa units or combat partners but rather just them, just 2B and 9S.

When 6O had asked about how she was supposed to go on living, 2B had been afraid to tell her how much she understood. 

“Proposal,” Pod 042 said, moving to float between her and 9S. 2B bit back the illogical flash of hot anger racing through her processors. She had plenty of practice at it, after all. “Unit 2B should give unit 9S space to reboot and test his functionality upon possible success.”

2B shifted on her knees, taking in 9S’s face for another moment. Where before he had seemed peaceful, almost calm in repose, now she could see tension along his jawline, as though he was gritting his teeth together. She hoped he wasn’t in pain.

“Understood,” she replied. Her legs felt like lead beneath her, rather than the powerful carbon fiber they were. Just standing upright was nearly impossible, and 2B was grateful that 9S hadn’t been awake to watch her wobble backwards like the world beneath her was shaking as much as her hands were.

Her eyes fixed on his still form, darting over every too-familiar part of her partner.

“Restoring cognitive functions,” Pod 153 said. “Restore at 84% completion.”

She waited. And watched.

Her internal clock indicated that it had been 52 minutes and 29 seconds since she had plugged Pod 153 into 9S.

52:30. 

52:31.

“Reboot at 100% completion. Disconnecting from unit 9S.”

2B stared, waiting. Hoping.

The first real movement from him brought a sound from her that she couldn’t describe if he tried, a hiccup from the very brink of tears mixed with relief and joy.

He was alive. And moving. And here with her.

She took another hesitant step forward. 

“9S…”

He mumbled something in response, something she can’t hear past the hum of her processors, and coughed suddenly, his frame shaking and creaking with the effort. 2B abandons any pretense of staying away from him, rushing back to his side and kneeling by his head.

“Analysis: current action is not advised.”

2B ignored it, instead cupping his cheek with her gloved hand and focusing on just how  _ warm _ he felt, even through the fabric. Alive. “9S!”

He groaned below her touch. When he spoke, his voice was raspy and electronic. “Two… B…”

Her hand was shaking against his cheek, but she ignored it. “9S… I’m… I’m glad you’re okay…”

“2B…” he whispered. His nose crinkled slightly beneath his blindfold, as though he was squeezing his eyes shut. 2B almost smiled, almost shifted to brush her thumb along his cheekbones, almost opened her mouth to tell him how worried she was, how much she had missed him.

Almost.

A jolt ran through 9S, and he was fleeing, moving away from her, using what little strength was left in his arms to lift himself and push himself back and away. 2B withdrew her outstretched arm, granting him the space he seemed to want, ignoring the tiny part of her that demanded that she reach out and grab him and crush him to her chest where he belonged. 

“2B?!”

Pod 153, who had returned the cable to wherever it had come from, floated down between the two of them. Its engines whirred softly in the deafening silence.

“Good morning, unit 9S.”

2B smiled, just the barest upturn of her lips. Finally. While she had no idea what had happened, they were alive and together again. 

“9S,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

His head tilted, just slightly, the way it did when he had been presented with a difficult puzzle of a piece of data he didn’t quite understand yet. The tension didn’t leave his shoulders.

Pod 153 tried again to break the tension. 

“Analysis: after the collapse of the tower, myself and Pod 042 agreed to attempt repair on units 2B and 9S. Unit 2B initiated a forced reboot on unit 9S, as he could not boot on his own.”

2B didn’t understand what the pod was talking about, with towers and collapses. 9S, though, clearly did. He turned to look at her now, his gaze intense even behind his visor.

“You…?” 9S breathed. “But…”

His hand fell to his chest in a motion so similar that 2B’s own hand went to her chest in response. 

He was looking for a wound.

How often had she seen that motion? She had seen his hand fall to find Virtuous Contract sprouting from his chest, stained red and black, more times than she ever cared to remember. 

Her hand tightened into a fist. He knew.

Oh  _ god, _ he knew.

2B forced the thoughts away, forced herself to focus back on the 9S in front of her here and now. He was looking away, back toward his pod. Exhaustion and panic colored his voice.

“The eradication… of YoRHa… Repairs… shouldn’t be possible! There’s… no backup!”

2B’s chest hurt as she watched him try to form words. He was right, of course. They shouldn’t be alive. Without the Bunker, their deaths should have been final. It had been the most terrifying part of leaving him, knowing that it was her last act. Her only chance, to give her singular life in exchange for his, to put him first.

“Pod 042 and myself decided that the end result was unacceptable,” Pod 153 said, oblivious to her internal struggles. “We have made the necessary repairs. Warning: black box temperature rising. Proposal: unit 9S should cease strenuous activity so soon after completion of repairs.”

9S was shaking. His hands were unsteady as they lowered from his chest, as they dug into the cool concrete beneath him. A laugh escaped him, and 2B shivered at the sound. She had heard his laugh before, heard his joy at riding boars and his excitement at finding new data. 

This was not that laugh.

“Pod, do a scan on my cognitive functions and report any system failures or abnormalities.”

“9S…?” 2B said, tilting her head to the side. What was he trying to do? What was that question meant to solve?” What-?”

“Scanning cognitive functions. No abnormalities or failures detected.”

“No?” Again with the surprise from him. Was he expecting a different result? His lips pulled into a frown, 9S asked another question. “Pod, you’re still following my orders, correct?”

Pod 153 bobbed up and down in a mimicry of a nod. “Affirmative. This tactical support pod is assigned to unit 9S.”

“Okay. Last question then.” 9S turned to look at 2B again. She wished, with quiet fercenvy, that she could see his eyes, see what he was thinking when he looked at her. Did he see 2B, his partner who had given him her life in a last act of defiance?

Or did he only see 2E?

Shaking, worse than before but still bearable, 9S spoke. “What is the current status of unit A2?”

Pod 153 hesitated, something 2B wasn’t used to hearing from the pods, before responding. “Unit A2 was also repaired. Current status is unknown.”

2B watched as tension rippled through his frame, drawing every muscle tight. “Can you or can you not confirm that unit A2 is dead?”

“Current status of unit A2 is unknown.”

9S’s eyes fell, staring down at the ground below him. What was he thinking? 2B reached out across the distance between them, unsure of her goal but knowing she wanted to offer him some comfort. His shoulders were shaking.

Was that… laughter?

“I knew it,” he whispered quietly. 2B paused, her mouth open to ask what he knew, to offer her support to her partner. His head snapped up quickly, cutting off anything that might have come out of her mouth.

“So after all of this,” he continued, “you’re still going to come after me. Torture me?” 9S laughed again, a twist in his lips making it so unlike the carefree laughter 2B remembered so fondly. Her chest felt cold, like ice. “Kill me?”

He pushed himself back, away from her. “I don’t know what I expected.”

2B withdrew her hand. 

He knew. He knew what she was. 

Her chest hurt. She moved to touch the place where her own sword had run her through, thinking of all the times she had stained that same sword with his blood.

Could she blame him for hating her? Could she blame him when every part of her had been stained with his blood?

“9S…” she said, “I never wanted to… I didn’t have a choice…”

_ I couldn’t just leave you to somebody else. _ No other E-Type would remember him. Not like she did.

He was  _ her  _ partner,  _ her  _ duty, and  _ her  _ weight to bear. She could not pass him off to another, no matter how many times he stained the white of her gloves with red.

9S seemed not to care. He tried to stand, only managing to get to a wobbly knee. His body shook with the effort it took to even move that much, but his eyes never left her, even from behind the blindfold. “Shut up! I’m not… I’m not listening to anything else you have to say! It’s a lie… all of it!”

2B moved forward as if on instinct, arms out to offer him support, before coming up short from touching him. The tension in the space between them was electric, screaming for her not to come any closer to him.

“Please,” she whispered. “Just listen to me. I  _ never _ wanted to hurt you.”

9S flinched away from her, Cruel Oath sparking into existence behind him. His jaw tightened. “I’m not playing games anymore! We both have unfinished business to take care of, and this time… I  _ will _ destroy all of you!”

2B retracted her hand, trying to pretend that they weren’t shaking. 

No matter how many times 9S figured out who she was, he always understood in the end, always forgave her with his last breaths, promised to see her again in the next cycle. This 9S in front of her, his chest heaving with his breaths, was foreign to her. She had never considered a life where he hated her like this, no matter how much she knew she deserved it.

“Please… just let me explain.” She swallows back her fear, raising her head to meet his eyes through their visors. “You can… kill me after. I deserve it. Just let me-”

Pod 042 interrupted her words. “Proposal: retreat is strongly advised. Unit 9S is exhibiting unpredictable, dangerous behaviors.”

9S ignored her Pod, instead getting shakily to his feet. “And let you put words in  _ her _ mouth?! Shut up… just  _ shut up _ !” His sword flashed into existence in front of him. He shook as though it was his first day of rollout, like an android who had never felt the earth shifting beneath his feet, who had never stood on his own two legs. 

2B recoiled, hastily getting to her own shaky feet and taking a step back from him. “Put words in her mouth…? 9S, what are you-?”

“Stop  _ messing with me _ !” 9S screamed, lashing out at her with Cruel Oath. Pod 042 darted in front of 2B, activating its M Shield program to block the attack. Cruel Oath bounced off the projected shield with a clang. The recoil from the hit sent 9S staggering back a bit. 

He had really intended to hurt her.

“Analysis,” Pod 153 said, floating closer to 9S. “Black box temperature of unit 9S is rising above dangerous levels. Proposal: unit 9S should disengage from combat until temperatures return to safe levels.” 

9S didn’t respond, only adjusting his grip and staring her down with steely indifference.

Pod 042 took the moment to speak. “Repeat: retreat is advised.”

Emotions flashed across 2B’s face behind her visor- betrayal, confusion, fear- before they vanish behind the mask she had perfected long ago. “Affirmative,” she replied. With a thought, she summons her own swords to her back, the sunlight glinting off them as she turned her back on 9S and sprinted toward the edge of the building. Pod 042 appeared as she flung herself from the edge, grabbing one of its claws in her hand and allowing herself to be floated to the ground. After a moment to orient herself to the city ruins around her, she turned to the left and let her feet carry her along the well-worn path to the Resistance camp. 

It wasn’t like she had anywhere else to go, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all kicking off. What's going on? What could 9S possibly be thinking?
> 
> Expect the 9S side update next week!


	3. To Walk Alone

2B ran without an aim for a while, focusing only on two things: get away from the building, and don’t think about the hatred in 9S’s voice as he spoke.

So far, she was only doing well at one of those things.

Pod 042 broke the silence. “Proposal: Unit 2B should state her intentions.”

“I…” 2B said before stopping herself. What were her intentions? Did she have any intentions?

She wanted to turn around. She wanted to climb that building again and apologize, explain why she had done what she had done. Tell him that 2E was who she was created to be, but 2B was who she wanted to be when she was with him.

It wouldn’t do her any good, though. 9S knew who she was. He had made his choice, and he hadn’t chosen her. How could she blame him, though? For everything she had done, the forty seven different versions of him that she had watched die at her hands, watched their blood seep into every crack and crevice of her body and soul...

2B had taken more from him than she could ever deserve to ask for. 

But that knowledge didn’t stop her chest from aching.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, slowing to a stop beside the shallow pond just outside the Resistance Camp. 9S had saved her here once, thrown himself at a machine she would have never beaten alone. Fresh out of maintenance, he had chosen to risk himself to save her.

Did he regret it now?

“Understood,” Pod 042 said, dragging 2B forcefully out of her memory banks and back into the present. “Proposal: Unit 2B should proceed to the Resistance Camp for debriefing on what has transpired during her absence.”

2B took a slow, deep breath, letting the cool air pull heat from her inner workings. She had been an emotionless soldier for three years, following every bloodstained command YoRHa passed down to her. Nothing had changed. Her mask was seamless. 

It had to be.

“Acknowledged,” she replied. She splashed through the pond rather than bothering to go around it. 

9S had complained about her insistence in walking straight through every puddle she could find. 

Don’t think about it.

“Hypothesis,” Pod 042 said, again forcing her attention elsewhere. Maybe it was doing it on purpose. “More information will become clear upon debriefing.”

Again with discussing what happened while she was gone. It felt like her Pod was trying to keep something from her, trying to keep it quiet. What could have happened while she was gone? What had they been through?

“Pod, what happened while I was... out?” She couldn’t bring herself to say “dead.” Death was final, permanent. Calling her temporary departure from the world “death” felt disrespectful to the androids who would never walk the earth’s surface again. For all of YoRHa, there was no second chance coming, no miracle waiting somewhere beyond their reach. For them, their end had come.

Pod 042 again hesitated, before finally beginning to speak. “There is much to be discussed. This tactical support unit will relay all past events gradually so as not to overwhelm unit 2B.”

There it was again. The concern, treating her as fragile. What had happened that would cause her pod to worry about overwhelming her?

“The immediate knowledge that concerns unit 2B is that an ark was sent into space by the machines containing a wide variety of information about human life, android life, YoRHa, and machine history.” 

2B shook her head, coming to a stop again just outside the camp. She leaned against one of the crumbling brick walls, trying to make sense of what her pod was telling her. “An ark? But... I don’t understand. What does an ark have to do with...”

_ With me being alive? _

2B had been expecting new information, something that explained what had happened, but she just couldn’t see how a machine ark had anything to do with her. How was that the information her pod had determined to be most critical?

“Unknown,” Pod 042 said. “However, the machine ark is a large source of concern as it was the last location of unit 9S and unit A2 before their destruction and the tower’s collapse.”

“Understood,” 2B said as she pushed off the wall she was leaning against. She couldn’t put it off any longer. “I guess we’ll check there next.”

“Affirmative. Resistance members should be able to provide additional information about recent developments in the city ruins.”

“And after that,” 2B said as she entered the camp, “the tower ruins.”

Her eyes scanned the camp, taking in the things that had changed. While operations appeared to be moving along as normal, 2B couldn’t help but notice the people who were missing. The camp as a whole felt subdued, quieter than usual as she walked through the camp, though a few heads turned to follow her movements with looks of surprise. She came to a stop in front of Anemone, whose head was bowed over an open map under her usual tent. It was such a familiar sight. It was almost like everything had gone back to normal, like nothing had ever gone wrong. 

If only.

Anemone scratched her head, staring intently at her map for a moment more before glancing up as though she was going to check the area. Her eyes fell on 2B and she jumped, nearly dropping her compass in surprise. “2… 2B?! You’re alive?!”

2B nodded, stepping under the canopy’s shade and moving closer to look at the map spread across the table. It was more detailed than her own low-resolution replication of the area’s topography, covered in ink splatters and hastily scribbled notes. “Yes. What’s happened since my... departure?”

Anemone’s eyes felt like a weight on her back for a moment as she studied her. 2B couldn’t blame her. How many times had she stood before someone that should be dead, someone she  _ knew _ had died? Every time she saw 9S for the first time became a little harder, a little heavier. Believing in miracles felt more impossible by the day.

After a moment, she heard Anemone sigh. She moved around the table, taking position opposite 2B. Her eyes remained on the map between them. Its surface had changed dramatically since the first time 2B had entered this camp, as Anemone had tracked the movement of the machines across the area. Now it appeared almost empty, with small pockets of red splayed across its surface. 

“I’m not sure how that’s possible,” Anemone said, picking up the pen from where it had been abandoned by the side of the map, “but I certainly won’t complain about it.”

2B watched in silence as Anemone wrote notes along the side of the map.

“As for your departure, well, we’re still trying to figure that out. Shortly after the YoRHa disaster, this strange tower appeared in that crater in the center of the city.”

“A tower…” 2B said softly. “My pod mentioned that as well.”

Anemone’s eyes moved to Pod 042, floating quietly behind 2B. “That Pod was following Number 2 around for a while. It might have more knowledge about what she was up to. As for the tower, Devola and Popola mentioned something about being needed there, but that was weeks ago. They were never found… Right around when they left, the tower shot something into the sky and collapsed. I haven’t seen Number 2 or your friend 9S since then.”

2B ignored the tiny pang in her chest. “9S is… alright. He... attempted to attack me when he was rebooted.” Her voice was emotionless, something she had gotten very good at over time. 

She hoped he was doing alright.

Anemone inhaled sharply. “He…? But he was…” She shook her head. “Was he infected like you other YoRHa types?”

2B doubted it. Infection in 9S was something she was intimately familiar with, the red in his eyes, the creeping metal along his neck or the way his voice crackled, electric and rough. No, the 9S that had attacked her had known what he was doing. It was his decision to attack her, not a virus. He meant it.

“I don’t know. He wasn’t infected when we were separated. Whatever happened after that is a mystery to me.” Without thinking, she turned her back to the table, toward the room she had shared with 9S for a few brief months, not the first but maybe the last.

“He no longer trusts me.” 

From behind her, she heard the shuffling of papers, the sound of Anemone’s boots on the gravel and concrete beneath her. 

“He was acting strange whenever he visited the camp. Not talkative like he used to be. And he never stuck around for long.”

A pregnant pause. 2B didn’t ask for more.

“That’s such odd behavior,” Anemone finally continued. “The twins seemed sure his attitude change was due to your…” Another pause, longer. “To what happened to you. Seeing you alive shouldn’t make him hostile.” More shuffling. 2B still didn’t turn. “There must be something we’re missing here.”

Her hands curled into fists. She couldn’t blame Anemone for assuming something was missing, because there was. Anemone didn’t know what she had done; how could she? Without someone telling her…

But 2B wouldn’t be the one. Old habits die hard.

“Thank you,” she said instead, slowly turning to face Anemone and pretending Anemone doesn’t still look surprised at the idea of 2B being thankful for anything. “Please… if you see 9S… keep him safe.”

Anemone nodded. 2B nodded back and turns away, heading toward the entrance of the camp. It’s such a familiar path, such a familiar action, and yet the pervasive sense of wrongness continued. 9S had always been by her side, over three years of meeting him again and again for the first time. 

Sure, she could work without him. But it didn’t stop the discomfort in her chest.

Her steps slowed as she passed the little flower garden in the center of the camp, trying to decide where she should go next. The tower was waiting for her, a pile of silicon and rubble in the middle of the city. And somewhere out there, 9S.

Sharp left, away from the entrance of the camp and toward the door of their little room. 2B paused for a moment, resting her gloved hand on the cool metal of the door before pushing it open and stepping into the room.

It was completely unchanged, with dust motes dancing in the weak light. The shelves were still stacked with piles of broken parts and old boxes, supplies for the camp that had been long forgotten in the cool darkness of the room. Two beds sat, made and unused, on opposite sides of the room, in the same places they had always been. 2B sat down on the one closer to the door. The one she had always used. The more defensible position in case of an attack. She had never told 9S why she insisted she take that bed. He had never asked.

Not that she would have told him if he had. There were a lot of things she had never told him.

“Pod,” she said,” tell me what happened. Everything.”

* * *

Pod 042 to Pod 153: This unit has been reassigned to YoRHa unit 2B.

Pod 153 to Pod 042: This unit is assigned to YoRHa unit 9S.

Pod 042 to Pod 153: Status update for unit 9S requested.

Pod 153 to Pod 042: Unit 9S remains in an unstable mental state. Proposal: intervene to keep distance between units 9S and 2B until a solution can be found.

Pod 042 to Pod 153: Understood. Contact between units 2B and 9S will be prevented until otherwise noted. Regular status updates requested periodically.

Pod 153 to Pod 042: Request acknowledged. Closing communication channel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little late. :) Been a long couple of weeks. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thalassa_Promise and I finished NieR: Automata recently and started a roleplay immediately. Whoops.
> 
> Check out 9S's side, which is being written concurrently, by looking at the series collection!


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